


Forging a Path

by LaLimonata



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BAMF Hermione Granger, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Multi, Post-War, Pureblood Culture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-01-28 12:37:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12606772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaLimonata/pseuds/LaLimonata
Summary: After the war, Hermione sets out to live her life making new friends and as ever researching. She returns to Hogwarts for her eighth year, to improve her understanding of pureblood culture with plans to improve society.





	1. Makeover

It was a scorching day in Diagon Alley, the normally bustling streets nearly empty as loved ones passed their time together out in the sun. They didn’t want to waste the unusually good British weather. A few people wandered into shops or sat at the ice cream parlour further down the street. The thick air enveloped them lazily. A petite witch with bushy hair and tanned skin sneezed harshly. She shook her head, staring at the restored shops around her. She fervently wished she had taken her monthly hay fever potion that morning. 

Hermione was enjoying the quiet day as she gathered her supplies for her 7th year at Hogwarts despite the dust that was twirling in the sunlight, attacking her eyes. As she wandered into the Magical Menagerie she rejoiced the fact that there were no crowds following her, no reporters and no people clamouring for pictures and autographs. She blinked back tears from her red eyes. Yes, she was extremely glad that there were no cameras. Nodding at the woman behind the counter, she wondered through the mish mash of cages and tanks looking for a new familiar.

Crookshanks had sadly died during the war, the poor dear had overstuffed himself on mice at The Burrow. Rats were out; shuddering slightly she recalled Scabbers. Dogs were too loud in her opinion and too brash although maybe such close proximity to Sirius the summer of fifth year had put her off. She stopped by a basket of kittens, reaching out to pet them. They were soft and cute and cuddly, and it made her miss Crookshanks’ aloof nature, his haughty stares, the flick of his tail. Sighing, she turned away from the kittens and moved towards a large, empty tank. I wish Crooks were here, he’d know who to pick. Clever boy. 

Vaguely she registered that something in the tank was moving.

“She rarely moves, Candita does. Only when she sees something interesting or when she feeds.”

Hermione started. Confused, she looked up at the smiley old lady who had snuck up behind her, “Candita?”

“She’s a right dear no matter how she looks. In fact, few people have seen her and those who have get scared. I think she likes to scare them, the minx.” The woman looked fondly towards the tank, opening the top. She hoped this would be a good match for the heroine after the poor cat who no one had wanted.

A silvery snake was curling up the tank, leaning towards Hermione.

 

“Would you like me to take her out?”

The snake appeared agreeable to that idea; Hermione nodded.

“Well come on Candita, let’s see if Ms Granger is willing to take you home, that’s it dear just let her come to you. She’s not venomous even though the markings indicate otherwise, it’s just a trick of nature to ward off predators.”

A few minutes later Hermione left the shop with Candita wrapped around her neck and hidden in her hair.  
*****  
Draco perused the aisles at Flourish and Blott’s looking for new schoolbooks. He’d lost Blaise in the Arithmancy section – the alleged playboy was fascinated by the numbers that divined the future. They had had countless debates over which art was more accurate: Divination or Arithmancy?

He smirked as he remembered how he got Blaise to shut up about it, walking into someone as he turned into the Ancient Runes section.

“Terribly sorry, I must not - Granger?”

“Malfoy,” she returned with a curt nod, “How are you?”

The two had reconciled their differences after the infamous Malfoy trial. She and Harry had presented evidence in the family's favour, ignoring a disgruntled Ron who couldn't quite let go of the family feud like the rest of the Weasleys. The two families were still cool with each other but most the feuds in the wizarding world had been put aside to reduce animosity; the already small population of witches and wizards had been greatly dented. Hermione was making an effort to bridge the social gaps between the Light and the Death Eaters. Malfoy had apologised for being a right dick at school after the trial and then they had both run to escape the press hounds.

“Not so bad. I’m getting new schoolbooks.”

Granger’s eyes lit up. “You’re going back to school too?”

Draco groaned. “Don’t tell me you are too. The one year I thought I could get away from the bloody Golden Trio – the sun shines out of their asses.”

Granger tried to look indignant and sniff, but the sniff came out as a snort and turned into full on laughter. Soon Draco was laughing too. They were shaking silently with tears streaming when a dark-skinned Italian came around the corner.

“Fuck Draco look at this – Draco?”

He looked up to find his best friend dying of laughter with his ex-arch nemesis and stared. The blonde never usually laughed in public. It was very unMalfoy.

“Draco? Are you okay, mate? Aren’t you going to introduce me to this Bella?”

Draco snorted.

“It’s just Granger.”

Hermione humphed, flipping her hair and held her hand out to shake Blaise’s. Slowly, he brushed her fingers across his lips.

“Ciao Bella.”

He winked. Draco and Hermione rolled their eyes. After the war many witches had been after the 'tall, dark, and handsome' wizard, nominated to Witch Weekly's Best Smile award this year - he had been bested by the lopsided grin of the boy who lived. Blaise was less arrogant now though he loved to charm the ladies. He was dressed similarly to the blonde, the latest fashion in robes but of a light blue cotton where Draco’s were grey, a book in one hand and her fingers in the other.

“Holy heaven and hell Zabini, is that the latest copy of “The Fourthcoming” by Alexander Grenville, the new Advanced Arithmancy book? It’s supposed to be an illuminating read and-” Hermione paid no attention to his allure, her eyes wide for the tome he held.

“Yes,” he smirked, moving closer to her, “Does that mean you’re coming back for your NEWTs?” 

“Yes! You must be taking Advanced Arithmancy too, at least there’ll be someone I know in class.”

His grin widened, and he winked at Draco who sighed minutely. “Perhaps we could study together? After all there are few other eighth years,” he asked innocently, draping his arm across her shoulders. Hermione’s hair moved, and Blaise jumped.

“Ow what the fuck Granger do you have pins in your hair?” Blaise pouted and retracted his hand bringing to Draco for an examination.

“Draco will you kiss it better?” he pleaded, examining the two bleeding pinpricks.

“Fuck off.”

Hermione unwrapped Candita from her neck. “It is not okay to bite people, Candita, no matter how good your intentions.”

The boys watched on incredulously as Hermione scolded an apparently pouting snake.

“Why do you have a snake Granger?” Draco wondered while he ignored Blaise’s dramatic complaints of poisoning.

“Zabini she’s not venomous. You’re not going to die. She’s my pet, Malfoy.”

“Oh, Bella call me Blaise,” he purred. The other two rolled their eyes.

“I’m so glad you’re over your near death experience, Blaise,” she responded drily.

Draco kissed Blaise on the head.

“Blaise let the grown-ups talk. What happened to that awful cat of yours Granger? The one with the squashed face.”

“Oh, he -he didn’t survive the war,” she said gently, “Anyway this is Candita, my new pet.”

Draco coughed awkwardly.

“She’s pretty but not as gorgeous as you, Bella.” Blaise winked.

“Give it a rest Blaise, I’m not interested, and I know I’m not pretty so you don’t have to lie. My hair has always been a mess for one thing. Just ask Malfoy.”

Blaise gasped as Draco raked his hand through his hair, wincing.

“Granger, I didn’t really mean all those things. I might’ve at the time because I was a complete prat but I’m sorry.”

“Ecco, apologise again Draco,” the blonde shrank a little under Blaise’s glare. Blaise was scary when he went full Mamma and he reminded himself that Mrs Zabini was even scarier. “-And then we go shopping, makeover time! Let me just grab your booklist and we’ll get the shop to prepare these. Then Twilfitt and Tatting’s and a haircut, possible manicure – let me see your nails.”

“Blaise that’s really nice but I-”

Blaise cut her off, “Nonsense. Draco will pay for everything" the blonde nodded meekly under another glare "and then you will look just as smart as you are, so you will be even more gorgeous.”

Blaise whirled out of the shop dragging Draco and Hermione with him.

“Just go with it,” Malfoy muttered, “Not even Voldemort could stop him now.”


	2. Death Eater Tea Party

Hermione stumbled out of the fireplace into a quaint kitchen. She flopped down heavily into one of the chairs at the strong, wooden table dropping her bag in front of her. She could see the sun setting through the lace curtains and wondered how it had gotten so late. The small beaded bag in front of her contained a whole new wardrobe as well as all her new school supplies. Blaise had dragged her around all day it appeared and now she was exhausted.

“Hermione, is that you?” a voice called.

“I’m in the kitchen, Andromeda. Do you want some tea?”

The voice replied in the negative. Hermione had been staying with Andromeda over the summer after the war. The Weasley family had needed time to mourn Fred’s death and Andromeda needed help with Teddy – living with Harry at Grimmauld Place had not been an option for her after a year of only Harry and Ron for company. When Hermione came back from Australia, Andromeda had offered her a space of her own. The cottage was cute, not too big but not tiny with a huge garden that Teddy loved. The brightest witch of her age mused on the combination of mobile phones and magic. She hated dropping in at all hours, no matter how many times Andromeda told her not to worry.

Hermione looked up from her tea as her magical mother, a woman with long black hair, walked in. Andromeda looked more like Bellatrix than Narcissa but less crazy and just as regal as the latter in her mannerisms. The eldest Black sister scrutinised her new daughter’s changed appearance.

“Your hair looks gorgeous darling. And you’ve updated your look.”

Hermione smiled, “I met Malfoy and Blaise at the bookstore and Blaise dragged me for a makeover. He made me burn the outfit I was wearing at Twilfitt and Tattings.”

Andromeda chuckled. “My nephew and his friend took you shopping. Well I suppose times are changing. But your hair looks very you like that.”

“Thank you,” the younger witch nodded, reaching a hand up to her bob that reminded her of Snow White. “It’s certainly easier to deal with this way.”

The older witch noticed a strange piece of jewellery around the girl’s neck, a silver pendant coiled like a snake.

“Your necklace dear, is that new too?”

“My necklace?” the girl frowned for a second, “Oh you mean Candita! Andromeda this is my new familiar Candita. Candita, Andromeda is a friend.”

The snake curled around her Mistress’ arm and allowed the other woman to pet her. Andromeda was bemused. Snake familiars were relatively rare, and she wondered how the rest of the Order would react. Snakes tended to indicate mastery of the Dark Arts. Coming from the Black family, Andromeda did not think that Dark magic was inherently evil, it was a mere question of how it was wielded. Similarly, some Light magic could be used for wrong. Shaking her head of those thoughts she wondered if Hermione knew.

“Candita is beautiful, Hermione. However, you should be wary of who you let see her.”

“Why?” Hermione bit her lip, “Blaise and Malfoy have seen her.”

“Yes, but I suspect they will be more open minded than most. You see, snake familiars are a sign of compatibility with Dark magic. After Voldemort, not many will be open to you.”

“Oh. Is that all?”

The older witch smirked, “What do you mean, dear?” 

“Well I don’t see why we ostracize Dark magic simply because it is Dark. Magic can be used in a variety of ways, it’s all about intent, isn’t it? I mean obviously not the Unforgivables but if we ostracize it, we don’t teach it, we don’t know it and that’s what makes it so easy to fear. Voldemort definitely used that fact to his advantage. I kept telling Harry that we needed to fight fire with fire, but he was adamant that we shouldn’t because people “succumb too easily” to it. But that doesn’t make any sense, I think people are seduced by the forbidden and an incomplete knowledge of Dark magic leads to incompetent use. That’s not to mention the fact that people who are outcast are more likely to be bitter and angry toward their fellow man.”

She had thought about this a great deal while she travelled Australia alone, searching for her parents.

Hermione looked up from her tirade which had her pacing about the kitchen to see her role model chuckling quietly.

“Did I say something wrong?” she bit her lip again.

“No dear, I agree with you. I’m just proud that you aren’t blindly following the Order’s Light only way. I suspect that the Black library still has many texts on Dark magic.” Andromeda stopped, seeing the girl’s angry face. “Hermione what’s the matter?”

“Dumbledore took many books away for “research purposes” and when we went through his house after the war his house elf, Betsy, told us that part of his library had gone up in smoke after his death.”

Andromeda was shocked. “Many of those books were priceless heirlooms, some even dated back to the time of the Founders. I cannot believe he would destroy such things.”

Andromeda was just as much a bookworm as Hermione and her personal library was filled with both muggle and wizarding books.

“I just cannot believe Sirius would let him do such a thing,” she continued.

“It was after Sirius died. Technically the house was left to Harry and Harry told Dumbledore he could use it for the Order. Although I’m not sure if the house really is Harry’s because Sirius was an outlaw at the time…”

Hermione trailed off uncertainly. Seeing the witch’s anger, she decided to distract her.

“Um anyway Andromeda, I was wondering whether I could host Blaise and Malfoy for tea. We just want to be out of the press’ eye and Blaise wants to come and burn the rest of my clothes.” The brunette rolled her eyes.

Andromeda calmed down. She smiled faintly recalling the awful purple sweater the girl had worn that morning with her red trousers and green trainers.

“Of course, dear. They may even come tomorrow if you want, this house is yours too you know. Teddy is staying with Harry and Ginny tonight, but he’ll be back tomorrow evening when we return from the Weasley’s.”

“Oh, that’s a shame. I think Teddy would love Malfoy and I can’t wait to see Malfoy’s reaction. Can I borrow your owl? I’ll send them a quick letter to invite them for afternoon tea. Oh! I’ll need to go out and get biscuits. Or scones? Oh my god what’s the etiquette for this! Andromeda do you have any etiquette books?”

The older witch shook her head fondly. The girl had confided she had always been fascinated by pureblood rituals and etiquette but had never had much time to explore it due to the war and rising tensions after her first year. There had been a brief excursion in fourth year after the attentions of Viktor Krum, but she had had no one to discuss and practice with.

“It’s not a test, Hermione. And I’ll guide you through the etiquette if you want. You may be an awful cook, but I can make excellent cake.” She sniffed regally.

Hermione grinned and hugged her adopted mum.

“Do you want to watch My Fair Lady?”

Andromeda nodded and allowed herself to be dragged to the living room.  
***  
The next morning Hermione woke up early. She had a bad habit of reading before bed and then picking up where she left off as soon as she woke up. Andromeda was enjoying a peaceful morning without her grandson's crying waking her.

It was an impressive skill to be able to navigate the house while reading and put on coffee, but it was nothing to wandering around Hogwarts, climbing moving staircases and the like. Sometimes Hermione questioned the improbably low death count the school had when you considered the fact that the castle was a glorified death trap. Pushing those thoughts out of her mind she settled down to devour her book.

An hour later Andromeda joined her with her own book. The difference between the two reading witches was startling -the elder prepared her coffee with the elegance of a Japanese tea ceremony, levitated her book in front of her and read demurely. The other was hunched over her book. Her coffee had long gone cold, but she continued to sip at it. Previously her hair would surround her like a cloud, blocking the light from the page. Hermione blinked a little as she realised she could actually see the words. It often looked a more like she was inhaling the knowledge than reading.

Hermione squinted at her book, sighed, and set it down.

"Andromeda?"

The older witch closed her book and took her glasses off.

"How do you do that? Look all elegant when you do things?"

Andromeda chuckled at the girl’s frown.

"It was instilled in me practically since birth, dear. Almost all pureblood and halfblood children are raised with these sorts of manners. It's part of wizarding culture. When I was young, Aunt Wally and my mother would train my sisters and I for hours on history, dance, manners etc. Sirius and Regulus got the same treatment. My mother wasn't born a Black, unlike Walburga. She saw muggleborns as lesser simply because they didn't have the same kind of manners."

Hermione's frown deepened, "The Weasleys weren't raised that way."

"You have to remember that Molly had 7 children. That's many to raise not to mention the war that was happening at the time."

"I suppose." Hermione didn't think this made sense. The book she was reading was all about tradition and customs in the wizarding world. She could understand Molly not having had the time to go into depth about manners and the like unlike someone such as Narcissa Malfoy but surely the Weasleys would celebrate Yule instead of Christmas. Despite their ‘blood traitor’ status they were one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, so they must have known or had some traditions of their own, right?

"Andromeda," Hermione nibbled on her lower lip, she had a habit of developing thoughts out loud even when alone. "Why does Hogwarts celebrate Christmas and not Yule? I mean muggleborns make up only 15% of all students. I understand making them feel comfortable in the wizarding world, but wouldn't it be best to do both?"

The older witch coughed delicately, "Well, dear, after Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald there was still a lot of hate for muggleborns, not to mention active discrimination. Dumbledore thought that education was key and implemented Muggle Studies as well as more muggle celebrations to lessen the discrimination."

Hermione grimaced thinking of all the times she had been discriminated against.

"Well that really helped," she snarked.

Andromeda was confused. There had still been some discrimination and she knew about the torture the girl had been subjected to by her sister, but it wasn't so bad at Hogwarts, was it?

Hermione began to explain when she saw her frown about Malfoy in second year and many other incidents. She brushed them aside as excusable due to the impressionable nature of children.

"Did you know Harry and Ron have got offers from the Ministry?" she asked lightly.

"That's excellent!" Andromeda beamed, "When do you start?"

"I don't have any offers."

"What? But, my dear, as much as I like the boys you're twice as smart as they are."

She shrugged, "I guess a mudblood with no NEWTs isn't worth having at the Ministry."

"Don't speak so vulgarly."

She shrugged again and asked about the cakes they had decided to bake for her tea party later.

Andromeda didn't show it, but she inwardly frowned.  
****  
Andromeda had left Hermione to get ready for her guests, declining her invitation to stay in favour of visiting the Weasleys and her grandson’s godfather. The two months after the war hadn’t been enough to heal some of the more serious cracks in society but many were racing to create new familial ties. Harry was no exception and had recently proposed to Ginny. The blow to the Weasley family through the loss of Fred was softened by the gain in a new family member. The couple planned to wait until after Ginny’s graduation to marry but that didn’t mean there were no celebrations or plans being drawn up.

Hermione lingered in her shower letting the water run off her body. It stung slightly on her scarred arm as she traced the words with a morbid familiarity. She bit her lip and stepped out of the shower. She wondered what to wear to impress Blaise from her new wardrobe. All her new clothes were soft, she ran her hands over them, pleased with the colour gradient she had arranged them in.

Personally, Hermione was glad to be single. Ron had approached her after the war and asked her on a date. She wasn’t ready. She wanted to find her parents. She remembered the kiss, the awkward passion of it, clumsy lips, clumsier hands, and a basilisk back drop. At the time she had been relieved, so close to the end and sex had been her stress relief. A long year without it had driven her almost crazy. When Ron had left – thinking about it made her anger flare, her hair crackling, and she was glad about the new haircut that made it look less frizzy. She wasn’t sure she had forgiven Ron for leaving in the same way she couldn’t quite forgive Professor Snape for bullying children for years no matter his intentions.

She snorted as she pulled out robes in grey silk; he was still ‘Professor’ in her mind like all the others who deserved respect. Vaguely she wondered where Umbridge was now. Or maybe the robes in pale blue were better?

The Floo sounded.

“Bella! Come out wherever you are.”

“I don’t bite,” Draco drawled, “But I can’t speak for Blaise. He gave me the most awful hick-”

“Hey!”

She laughed, and the boys followed the sound to burst in to her bedroom.

“Hey, I’m getting dressed,” she hissed covering herself with the robes.

 

Blaise tutted. “Neither.”

“And anyway, Granger we bought your underwear yesterday nobody cares.”

Blaise had already turned away to the wardrobe and began rearranging the clothes by event and colour gradient. Hermione sat next to Malfoy on the bed resigned to her fate. They played with Candita while they waited, stroking her and cooing at her.

Finally, he pulled out a set in light green with white accents, noting, “These are perfect for today.” Before he could launch into a revised lesson of the clothing etiquette she had learnt yesterday she stopped him.

“I know. The light colours are good for more informal afternoon visits, but I have also invited an associate-” 

“Hence the grey or the blue.” He nodded. “Well wear the green.”

She rolled her eyes but complied and led the boys down for tea.

“So, this is Aunt Andromeda’s house then?” Draco asked as Hermione handed him a teacup.

“Yes. We became close after I came back and my place at the Weasleys was strained. She let me stay. I help with Teddy when he’s not with Harry. Andromeda is helping navigate wizarding culture in return.”

“We can help too if you like Bella.”

She smiled gratefully.

“Why didn’t you need help before?”

She took a long sip from her tea.

“Well there was a war going on, more pressing matters and such than hair and manners,” she said wryly. Before she could continue the doorbell rang.

“Excuse me boys.”

Blaise waggled his eyebrows at her, “Your ‘associate’ I assume.”

She grinned, and they relaxed. They sat on the opposite sofa to hers, cream upholstery that matched the painted walls and the delicate pink wallpaper by the fireplace. The elegant tea spread on the table sat on a mahogany coffee table. Draco ran his hands lightly through Blaise’s hair. They had decided to reveal their relationship now that their mothers had accepted it; homosexuality was more common in the wizarding world but less common among the pureblood heirs who were required to produce children.

Their hostess walked back through the door and Blaise pursed his lips slightly at her slouch. His boyfriend snorted softly.

“Draco, Blaise I believe you know Mr Nott.”

“Theo. Theo is your associate.”

Blaise burst out laughing with Draco.  
****  
Two boys flooed into the kitchen, frowning at the sounds of laughter coming from somewhere in the house.

“Maybe we’re intruding,” the first boy said, pushing up his glasses and ruffling his black hair.

“She said she was hosting friends. No,” the red headed one shook his head, “We’re not. She’s probably just reading something funny.”

The first boy nodded. They moved towards the laughter, voices drifting down to them.

“Oh, I’m sorry gentlemen, I have business to discuss with Mr Nott. I clean forgot.”

The two glanced at each other, confused.  
****  
Blaise tried to stop laughing. He really tried. But the sight of Hermione with Theo, the most serious man he knew, her associate, it was too much. Draco wondered what kind of business they had and silenced Blaise who gripped his arm tightly to stop himself from falling.

The blonde man quirked an eyebrow at the taller one who was now sat beside Hermione. Theo often kept his business to himself. The three boys had been best friends since birth and he trusted Theo with his life. He had been the first to know about their relationship.

Theo nodded at Draco and turned to Hermione. His deep voice rang out clearly, “Ms Granger, I am friends with these two idiots.” He cracked a smile.

Granger, though, looked disappointed.

“Well, then we must terminate our arrangement I suppose. I wish to become friends with these two when they return to Hogwarts and you are their friend.”

The three boys raised an eyebrow at her. She wondered if it was some kind of secret Slytherin class Snape had taught.

Nott nodded, “Agreed. I also am to return to Hogwarts.”

She smiled, and they brought out their planners. The other two boys looked on in confusion.

“I’m glad. We should get reacquainted on the train. Last session then? Are you free tomorrow? 3pm?”

“Yes, same place as last time?”

She nodded, biting her lip. “How long should I book you in for? Should I bring the toys?”

He nodded. “About 3 hours should suffice.”

Blaise’s jaw dropped, and he nudged at Draco. Th silencing charm was removed.

“Are you really that kind of associate?”

Draco furrowed his brow.

Hermione nodded seriously, “He’s my fuck buddy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one has been slow, I didn't want to rush it like I did my other one which is more like my guilty trash addiction. So I'll be working on this more than the Riddle/Granger one. The romance will not be the major thing about this fic and Hermione will not be a Mary Sue.


	3. Misconceptions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffhanger, I'm going to try to start updating this regularly. Let me know what you think, I really appreciate it :P
> 
> PS I know it looks like Theomione but Theo is definitely aro

Ron burst into the room. Harry followed.

“What the fuck Mione?” he snarled.

“Harry, Ron. What are you doing here?” she frowned.

“Hey Hermione, Andromeda told us you were having some friends over and we thought-”

Ron, who was now red in the face, cut his friend off, “What the fuck? Why are you having a Death Eater tea party? Why are you sleeping with Nott?”

The fuckbuddies looked at each other and shrugged. Draco prevented Blaise from conjuring popcorn. Blaise pouted. 

“Sex is good stress relief,” Nott said.

She nodded, “There have been many muggle articles proving that good, frequent sex can reduce stress by up to 35%”

Harry creased his brow even more in confusion. Ron had turned a shade of puce Vernon Dursley would be proud of.

“Bloody hell Mione,” he yelled, “Why aren’t you fucking me? Or are you just a Death Eater whore now?”

No sooner than he said that, Ron was silenced and bound to one of the armchairs.

“Harry,” Hermione said, deadly calm, “Would you like to sit down and have tea with us?”

Harry gulped and nodded. He sat on the remaining armchair. He knew not provoke his best friend when she was like this.

“Hermione, why didn’t you tell us? We’re your best friends,” he said gently. He was surprised that she had never said anything, because the contract and the research sounded like the practical approach Hermione took to everything.

She let out a long sigh. She turned to look at Nott who nodded slightly. Draco had to keep Blaise from mauling Ron as much as he would like to himself. They both knew their new friend would not appreciate it right now. The three Slytherins looked thunderous, glaring at Ron.

Hermione sighed again, “Well. Firstly, I’m not a ‘Death Eater Whore’ as Ron so kindly put it. Blaise and Mr Nott were never Death Eaters.” The two boys clenched their jaws slightly nodding at her to continue.

“Secondly, we started our arrangement in sixth year. I was so angry because of “Won-Won” and “Lav-Lav”,” she smiled sweetly, Draco snickered. Ron shot him a murderous glare. “I didn’t tell you Harry because you were obsessed with Draco. Honestly, I thought you were gay at one point” Harry choked at this, while Hermione glared disapprovingly at the couple who were eyeing him suggestively, “Boys don’t toy with him. Anyway, you were so worried about the horcruxes and Malfoy and I didn’t want to tell you and cause you more problems. In any case Mr Nott and I had been working together on Arithmancy since a partnership the year before and we drew up a contract for monthly sex. It was very convenient. The aftermath of the war has been stressful too, so we kept it up, but part of our arrangement is that we must admit any emotions for each other or feelings. If any other relationship type forms, we terminate the contract.” 

Draco and Blaise chuckled. The blonde snorted, “I knew you two were nerds but really a sex contract?”

The other two cracked a smile and even Harry looked faintly amused. Ron did not.

“Well, to address Ron’s other concern, you can’t have casual sex with someone you’re friends with. It gets messy. You were with Lavender at the time anyway. Anyway, this tea party is for my new friends and my old associate. The three of them are going back to Hogwarts and I’m not sure who else is going and I want to have someone to talk to about class.”

“Ginny’s going back.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Harry, she won’t be in my classes. And you know I’m not very good with girls.”

Harry nodded, and the five boys eyed each other. Hermione noted that Ron was back to a normal colour and released him from his bonds. He grabbed the plate of biscuits she offered him.

He spoke through a mouthful of crumbs, “So Mione, now that you’re not with Nott, let’s go on a date.”

The three Slytherins inwardly snickered. They hadn’t known Hermione long, but her hair was crackling with her magic. She was annoyed. The three knew that that was not an effective way to ask for courting rights either. Blaise nibbled at a biscuit, wishing he could eat popcorn. Harry inwardly groaned.

“Ronald. I’ve asked you not to call me Mione. I hate it. And what part of casual sex do you not understand? I was never with Mr Nott. And if you want to go on a date with me ask, don’t assume. I’m still not ready for a relationship.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose.

Harry nudged Ron, “Let it go mate.”

An awkward silence reigned. The Slytherins didn’t mind being around the Golden Trio but they weren’t looking to become friendly with Saint Potter and the Weasel either.

Ron frowned. 

“Mione,” he said thoughtfully, sucking on the word as though it were a lemon drop.

She scowled. Harry held his breath, wondering if Ron could stick his foot in his mouth anymore. He was already regretting this whole invasion on his best friend – who he was sure would have told them everything when she was ready.

“Don’t scowl, Bella, you’ll wrinkle,” reprimanded Blaise. He wasn’t going to let the Weasel ruin his hard work. She smiled at him.

“Sorry. Don’t call me ‘Mione’. I hate it.”

“Oh sorry. Hermione, does that mean you’re not a virgin?” Ron said, slightly pink cheeked.

“Obviously,” Nott smirked.

Hermione clenched her fists, “Virginity isn’t a thing Ron. It’s a social construct.”

Harry nodded.

“Right, but doesn’t that mean you won’t be pure for your wedding day?”

Nott breathed in sharply, curiously eyed by Draco and Blaise. He’d heard this argument at the beginning of their arrangement. They were confidantes to each other, their contract’s confidentiality sealed by unbreakable vow unless both agreed to it.

She smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. Honey dripped dangerously from her words, “Are you a virgin Ron?”

“Course not,” he bragged, yet again treating her like one of the guys, “Lavender Brown after Christmas in sixth year.”

The Slytherins were disgusted. It was poor breeding to brag about ‘conquests’ like that.

Hermione nodded at him and tilted her head. Harry shivered slightly recalling the Umbridge incident. Sometimes the woman he considered his sister was terrifying, almost on par with Snape.

“So, you’re not pure for your wedding day either. So why must the bride be? Hmm?” she beamed at him.

Ron swallowed. “It’s just how it’s done isn’t it?”

“You sexist arse, Ronald.” She stood up. She was shaking with anger at this point. Hermione had always had powerful accidental magic, but she had more trouble controlling it after the war. The teacups rattled slightly and the boys all stood alarmed.

“I’m sorry to cut this short, boys, but I must excuse myself. Mr Nott may I ask for your assistance?” He nodded. She ushered the boys from the room, Harry dragging Ron through the floo. Blaise hugged her and told her they would write. Draco nodded.

Nott took her back to Nott Manor, grateful that he had changed the wards to admit wizards of any blood status.  
****  
Theodore guided a trembling Hermione out of the floo into a dark room. The whole manor was covered in dark wood panels that shone in the scarce light; the heavy velvet curtains were often drawn, with few candles lit. Nott had grown up like this, his eyes adjusting easily to the dark.

Hermione allowed herself to be brought upstairs, bundled into another room, and handed a glass of something strong and alcoholic. Theodore was a hazy shape, the large glass window a contrast to the rest of the house. The cream room was bare aside from a drinks sideboard and a pile of leaves in the corner.

She sipped her drink.

"What is this place?"

"I thought you were the brightest witch of your age. Can you not recognise a room?" he smirked.

She scowled at him, "Yes, but why is it bare Mr Nott? And why the leaves?"

"Call me Theodore. This room is my anger management. I developed it last year when a certain person was no longer available. Watch." At this he drained his glass and set it down. He transfigured the leaves into a motley collection of vases, cups, teapots, glasses, a mixture of glass and china. He took the nearest, a pretty, blue vase, examining it before hurling it into the opposite wall. Blue fragments went flying as the pottery smashed against the far wall. When the last pieces stopped shaking, the crash no longer echoing around the room, he turned to face her.

"I suppose we could do this instead of fuck. It looks rather satisfying."

He smiled.

Hermione walked over to him, empty glass in hand, set on smashing out her anger. She tilted her head.

"Confidentiality?"

He nodded, "Confidentiality."

She grabbed the nearest cup, bone china, a delicate flower pattern, perfect for tea. She threw it. It felt good.

They continued in a frenzy.

"I can't believe that bastard. Calling me a whore. Just because he's not damn mature enough - fucker thinks we should be together because Ginny and Harry are - oh how sweet the golden foursome and our children will grow up together and I'll stay at home the perfect fucking housewife who can cook the perfect fucking meals for her husband - the fantastic fricking auror. 'No, it’s okay if you don't get a job from the ministry Mione'," she growled "'You'd have to stop soon anyway for the kids' - sexist dick. Because the wizarding world must live in the fucking dark ages where everyone is so fucking repressed. Oh no don’t change any major policies after fucking Voldemort! Fricking corrupt fricking ministry."

Her sentences were punctuated with the smashing of delicate items. 

"What's wrong with the ministry?"

"Oh let me count the ways." She pretended to pause and think. Theo snickered.

"One, Harry and Ron got job offers but who didn't? Oh, little, female, mudblood me. Oh, that’s fine. I didn't help them at all last year, did I? You know, researching and not abandoning Harry and so on."

Theo kept quiet. He didn't understand how they could turn her down. Draco had told him that Snape had to fix her in second year, a polyjuice potion incident that meant she had brewed a beyond NEWT level potion when she was 12. Not to mention her beating him to top of the class every year.

"Two, the Wizengamot seats are normally inherited or personal recommendations. Again, no ickle mudbloods because they can’t handle that kind of responsibility, poor babies. And few women because heaven forbidden women actually have any say in government. The horror."

Theodore had known that the Wizengamot's power was often passed down from master to apprentice or father to son, but he'd never thought of that.

"Although come to think of it the Order had no mudbloods aside me," she mused. He winced at the derogatory term slipping out of her mouth like any common noun.

"Three, Voldemort got so many fucking followers because he actually offered something of value to many other magical races not just the regulations and half-lives the goddamn ministry still offers."

"Four, the treatment of reformed death eaters and death eater families which has just gotten worse since the end of the last war." Theo winced again.

"Not to mention all the life endangering crap at that has happened at Hogwarts, and not implementing proper measures to welcome muggleborns into the fold. Viktor started courting me for an engagement in pureblood fashion and I had no fucking clue because no one told me that shit still happened."

Finally, he spoke up, "Really?"

They'd run out of things to throw. She poured them each a glass of Firewhiskey before sinking to the floor.

"Mmm. He gave me this beautiful bracelet at the Yule Ball which obviously meant he had claimed me as a potential fiancée."

Theo nodded, "I remember. Draco went wild when he found out. He was so happy when you stopped wearing it - he had a crush on Krum. Pansy wouldn't stop hinting at him to get her one. That was hilarious. Surely, Weasel would have known however or Weaslette?"

Hermione shooke her head, "Contrary to popular belief, I'm not actually good friends with Ginny. In fact, I don't have any girlfriends. Ginny's more like a cousin you have to spend time with than a friend. And neither noticed. Ron was too jealous. I'm not sure the Weasleys follow those traditions any more either."

"How did you find out?"

"Professor McGonagall called me for a meeting. She asked if I had discussed my studies with Viktor as Bulgaria is much more traditional than Britain. I was terribly confused until she informed me. I spoke to Viktor and he was really disappointed when I said no."

Theo hummed.

"My mother was arranging a match between Ms Lovegood and I before she died. I still have the bracelet I was supposed to give her."

"Wow. I never would have thought..."

"Yes. The Nott men usually take Ravenclaw brides."

"That must be why you're above average." She smirked.

"I'll have you know I was second best in my year."

"Awww only second."

They laughed. Theo looked over the sweating, exhausted girl who was half asleep on his shoulder.

"Tired? You can stay here tonight, I'll send an owl to Mrs Tonks."

"That would be great, thanks Theodore."

He led her to the room next to his.  
****  
He awoke with a start to screaming. He wondered who it was and hoped his mother was okay. He figured it was nearly 3am. He stumbled out of bed, following the sound. When he reached the door, he remembered his mother was dead. Hermione. He shoved into her room, feet tripping on the sweatpants that hung low on his hips.

She was thrashing in bed, screaming, knotted into the sheets. Her magic flared out to protect her. It stung when he got close. He cast a spell, ripping the sheets from her, drying from the sweat. He hissed as her magic lashed out again.

He got into bed and pulled her over. Her arms were crushed to her sides as he stroked her hair, mumbling "I'm here" until she stopped fighting. He hoped that would help. His mother used to do it to him after his father's bad days. Slowly, her breathing calmed and he was lulled into sleep.


	4. Breakfast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't updated in so long, I've been struggling with my mental illness for a while. Anyway I hope you like this next bit!  
> If anyone is reading Cave I've still got plans for it don't worry.
> 
> Also it makes me really happy when people leave comments or kudos <3 thank you!!!

The next morning Hermione stumbled out of bed alone. A pile of clothes had been left for her on the chair for her with a note.

“I brought these for you Bella, doubtless Theo has nothing for you to wear. Love Blaise xxx”

That was sweet of him. After a quick shower, she picked up the lilac robes and put them on remembering her lessons: bright pastels can be worn around friends or family during the day. She fixed her hair before applying pale pink lip balm she always wore. 

She bounced her way down the stairs wondering where the kitchen was.

“Bloody Fort Knox,” she mumbled to herself, giggling. “Fort Knotts.” She activated a sonorous charm on herself.  
****  
The three friends were lounging in the breakfast room and sipping at hot drinks. Theo had an espresso and the Daily Prophet, and was reading about the latest Ministry blunders. Admittedly, the Ministry were doing better than they were pre-Voldemort, but they still had lot of work to be done. Theo was also ignoring Blaise and Draco’s molestation of each other against the kitchen counter as they made tea. He’d seen worse. They’d gotten carried away once in the Slytherin dormitories and fucked right in front of him. He had been lost in his book, one minute they were playing chess and when he next looked up they were naked and moaning. He had returned to his book.

All three looked up when they heard Hermione’s voice, “Theo, Blaise, Draco? Where’s the kitchen?”

Theo snapped his fingers, “Faelin.”

A young house elf popped up, wearing a sparkling, white cloth embroidered with the Nott family insignia.

“Yes master?”

“Faelin, could you please show Hermione the way here?”

“The Hermione Granger, sir?” Somehow the elf’s wide eyes widened in fear.

“Don’t worry, she won’t give you any clothes and if she did I’d always bind you again.”

Faelin’s fears seemed soothed by that, “Yes sir, right away, sir.”

The elf disappeared, and Theo returned to his newspaper. He thought he could hear moaning. He most definitely did not want to know.

A few minutes later, the elf returned with a fresh-faced Hermione.

“Thank you, Faelin. Good morning Hermione. What would you like to eat?” he said, folding his newspaper and looking up at her. “And before you ask, no house elf rights are not an appropriate discussion for breakfast.”

Hermione got ready to argue, “But –”

“Please, Hermione we can discuss it later; I already have to deal with this indecency.”

His eyes pleaded with her and she followed the line of his arm to gaze upon Blaise lifting Draco up on to the countertop.

“Blaise! Draco! Have you no respect? Stop that.”

Grumbling, the two gave each other one last kiss before bringing over-brewed tea to the table. Theo smiled at his houseguest before ordering pancakes for the four of them.

After a leisurely breakfast, the witch sipped at her coffee whilst reading the newspaper. She looked like she was reading it, but her eyes kept flicking over the same paragraph, not really seeing the lines of print written about the latest Ministry initiative. Eventually she put it down with a sigh.

“I really should go and talk to Harry and Ron about last night.”

Theo hummed in agreement. 

“Ugh you’ll make me sick Granger. Can we wait to mention the idiot duo until later?”

“No, Draco. You know if you want to be my friend you will have to get used to this. I will talk about them.”

“Yes dear, kindly shut up,” Blaise chimed in, pecking his boyfriend on the cheek.

“Draco,” Hermione said slowly.

“Oh no. She has an idea. Please don’t drag me into any crazy Gryffindor schemes.”

Theo smirked behind his teacup as Hermione smiled sweetly at the blonde.

“How is Narcissa these days?”

Granger had testified on behalf of both Narcissa and Draco at their trials. Afterwards, Narcissa and her had had a brief private chat over tea so the former could express her apologies at the latter’s treatment at the hands of her sister and within her house.

“She’s doing okay,” Draco said warily, “She spends much of her time with Blaise’s mother planning our wedding. They had an agreement that if they had children of the opposite sex then they would draw up a marriage contract for them and now they’re ecstatic that we’re together anyway.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you were engaged: congratulations!”

Blaise snorted, “We’re not.”

“Oh-kay then. Well I was wondering if Narcissa would like to come and meet Andromeda? If we all go it might smooth their meeting and we all leave in two days.”

“I know we weren’t doing anything tonight,” Draco said glancing at Blaise, “Can we bring Theo?”

Theo laughed softly, “My entire social circle is here aside from Pansy, the Greengrasses and the Lovegoods. I’d be happy to come but I think it’s more of a family affair. Invite me to the next one.”

“How about we all pop home and ask and then owl back?”

“Sounds like a plan, Granger. See you later.”

“Wear the pink robes tonight, Hermione. And can we see Candita? Oh, my mother will come if Cissa is going.”

“Yes, you can and that’s fine. Which pink? Pale or magenta?”

“Magenta,” Blaise called before they popped through the floo.

Hermione turned to Theo who looked troubled, “Listen Hermione, you had a nightmare last night. It was very powerful, as in your magic was all over the place. I came in and held you and you seemed to settle down, but you may wish to see Madam Pomfrey about it when we go back.”

He lifted his sleeve to show her the magical burn marks he had from last night.

“Oh my gosh, Theo, I’m so sorry. I knew they were bad, but I had no idea that they’d hurt you.”

She gave him a fierce hug and made him promise that he would have Faelin see to it before she too left through the floo. Andromeda, she thought, Andromeda and then Ron.


End file.
